


Only Pretend

by Amelia_Friend



Category: Edgar Allan Poe's Murder Mystery Dinner Party (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, Shipwrecked Secret Santa 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-23 20:20:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17087078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amelia_Friend/pseuds/Amelia_Friend
Summary: Prompt: Wellenore, Hey can you pretend to be my boyfriend for my ex's wedding. Bonus points if there's a "Oh no only one bed we'll have to share" sorry I love a good old fashion fanfiction tropeFor RoxyMoron101"You just need to show up and pretend to be in love with me."Pretending to be in love with her might be difficult – but probably for the opposite reasons to what Lenore might suspect at this point.





	Only Pretend

Guy's getting married.

It's not earth shattering news or anything.

The engagement was announced months ago with photos splattered across social media; with surprise and hope and joy, and soft pastels in atheistically pleasing combinations, and close up of fingers and rings and smiles, caught forever in these photographs.

It's not earth shattering news or anything.

But Guy's getting married, and she's holding an invitation in her hands.

 

[Who invites their ex-fiancée to their wedding. Sure it was mostly amicable, except for the minor near-death experience, and they're still friends. Ish. They're still friends-ish. But why would you invite your ex-fiancée to your wedding.]

 

Would it be rude to turn down the invitation?

Would be it ruder to actually attend?

What's the protocol here?

She should probably google this.

Google always has the answers.

 

Google Search: should you attend your ex fiance's wedding

About 38,300,000 results (0.41 seconds)

 

First result: 5 Reasons You Should Never, Ever, Go to Your Ex's Wedding

Second Result: When Is It Ok To Go To An Ex's Wedding

Third Result: Can You Ever Invite an Ex to Your Wedding

 

Well. Those weren't exactly promising.

It'd probably be much easier – it'd be much more sensible – for everyone involved if she just ticked the little box that says “regretfully declines” and put the whole thing out of her mind.

 

There wouldn't be a story here if she had ever chosen to be sensible.

 

* * *

She ticks the box that states “graciously accepts”, and she also _graciously accepts_ the plus one they've given her.

She doesn't even need to google it to know that turning up alone at any ex's wedding – let alone an ex _fiance_ 's wedding – is a recipe for disaster, and an showcase of her loneliness.

(She's not lonely. She has friends, and work, and she has hobbies and stuff, and work, and her brother is around enough to be annoying, and...

 

… shit. Work. That is a thing she was supposed to be at already.

 

This can wait.

 

* * *

One of the bonuses of working for your brother was that when you rocked up at work almost half an hour late (despite only living a ten minute walk away), there was only so much he could do, and they were empty threats anyway.

(It'd be an awkward family Christmas; Edgar and Lenore sat on opposite sides of the table, surrounded by their parents and extended family, and studiously – yet completely – ignoring each other.)

 

HG is already working when she walks through the door of the coffee shop – he's a new hire at The Raven; nice enough – he's a bit strange (not as strange as Edgar – but is anyone _ever_ as weird as Edgar), but a hard worker and never annoys her (also unlike Edgar).

 

Work is easy enough – a steady stream of customers, enough to keep their hands busy, but not so much that it became overwhelming or difficult for either of them to keep up.

Lenore chatters on with the customers, and with HG when time allows – this and that and other and everything except the invitation still lying where she abandoned it this morning in her rush to work.

 

Annabel joins them a few hours later; and Lenore has waited too long to talk about her mail this morning that it takes minutes for the whole story to start tumbling out.

It seemed longer and more convoluted in her head – but it doesn't take too long for the whole story to come out, all wrapped up in a final line of; “Come to the wedding with me?”

 

Lenore knows the answer before Annabel has time to verbalise it – her face speaks volumes. “I would but...” she trails off, and Lenore finishes off the sentence in her head (I would but it's the day before Christmas Eve; I would but I already have plans; I would but you're going to make an enormous fool of yourself and I need to be anywhere but there.) (Okay. Maybe not that last one. That's definitely more of a Lenore statement than an Annabel one. Annabel would never be able to formulate even a half-mean response in her life.)

 

“Sorry, could I just...” a voice cut through Lenore's head – as HG tried to move past her so he could go home (his shift having ended just as Annabel's began), and Lenore spoke before she even thought about it.

“You want to go to a wedding with me?” It's not what she thought she was about to say. But it could work. And as long as no one realised he wasn't actually her boyfriend, then she could come out the wedding without making such a fool of herself.

“I mean...” He started stammering, but Lenore started to speak over him.

“As a friend. But everyone else needs to think we're dating. A fake-dating AU. But in real life.” He doesn't say anything – just stares at her wide eyed. “Don't worry about the time off, I'll talk to Edgar for you, and sort out all the details. You just need to show up and pretend to be in love with me.”

 

(She needs him to do this – most of her friends already know Guy, or are gonna be out of town over the holidays, and if HG can't do this she's going to have to bring _Edgar_ as her date, and bringing your brother as your date to your ex's wedding is almost as unacceptable as going to the date single and unattached.)

 

He smiles nervously, “Sure. I can do that.” He actually means it, he's not just saying it to get out of the conversation.

(Pretending to be in love with her might be difficult – but probably for the opposite reasons to what Lenore had reason to suspect at this point.)

Lenore returns a grateful smile, and comes _this close_ to even giving him a hug (and she never hugs anyone. Except Annabel. But Annabel hugs aren't exactly optional). “You have _saved_ my _life_. I'll text you the details when I get home.”

 

And that's how it started.

 

* * *

The wedding invitations were sent out eight weeks in advance (according to Google six to eight weeks in advance was the perfect time to send out the invites. She's done way too much googling about weddings in the past few weeks about weddings to be healthy. But she needs to pass the time some how.), but all that meant was that she had eight weeks to panic, and plan, and learn more about HG (for research. Just so that they'd make a convincing couple. Nothing more. Nothing at all)

 

“You know, if we're going to pretend we're madly in love,” Lenore tells him one day, when they're working together, and the steady stream of customers has temporarily disappeared. HG blushed faintly at that but Lenore pretended she didn't notice and ploughed on regardless – it would almost certainly embarrass him more if she mentioned it at all. “I should probably know what your name is. Your full name,” she clarified. “Not just HG.” (She was could be oblivious at times. She wasn't so oblivious she didn't know his name when he wore a name badge every single time they saw each other.

“Oh, I couldn't possibly... It's terribly embarrassing.” He's getting better at the whole not tripping over his words every time they talk thing, but it's still not completely there.

“My brother's name is _Edgar_ , how much worse than that could it be?” Edgar's just in the back room, but he probably can't hear her. And if he does, it's not like she hasn't called his name (and him, for that matter) worse things to his face.

 

“When I'm dying in your arms, and it's all terribly dramatic. I'll tell you then.” She thinks he's teasing her somehow, but he's always so sincere it's hard to tell when he's being so sincere, he's not sincere at all.

(She said the word sincere too much. It's doesn't feel like a real word any more. Sincere. _Sincere. Sinceeeere._ )

 

* * *

Sometimes he'd learn more about her too.

 

“So how do you know Guy, and why do you need a fake date so desperately?” HG asks her one day, when they're working together, and the steady stream of customers has temporarily disappeared.

“He's my ex-fiancée.” She replies honestly, and that wasn't the answer he was expecting (he knew Guy was her ex – but that could have meant anything from “we dated for a month when we were too young to know better” to well, … that)

 

“We got engaged – we were too young and too stupid and too in love and we got engaged.” There were three years of memories she was still trying to suppress in the short sentence. But that wasn't the end of the story.

“I was shopping for my wedding dress – and I had just found the perfect one. One minute I'm in the dress shop; next thing I know it's a day and a half later and I'm in the hospital.”

He's looking at her, and he's listening, _really listening_ , the way most people don't. “Mystery illness” she explained, “The doctors couldn't quite explain it. I blame the ribs.” It's a joke but not really. She doesn't talk much about that time – it's terrifying, waking up somewhere (especially a hospital) with no memory how you got there, and with no explanation from the doctors (the people who are supposed to know everything) of what actually happened to you. Her mother had cried a lot; Edgar had actually had an emotion towards her that wasn't ever so slightly tinged with annoyance; and Guy never left her side from the moment he heard about her, to the moment she was released.

“After that we postponed the wedding. The postponed the engagement. Then we just...” she gestured vaguely with her hands, “... drifted apart. Neither of us really ended it. He was the love of my life.”

 

She shook her head, as if to shake out ghosts of years past. HG looked at her, and looked through her; and there was a slight sadness to him that he'd never tell her about. “Back then. He was the love of my life back then.”

 

There was a moments pause, and a stillness that began to grow – and was promptly broken with the ring of the bell above the door and a new customer walking through.

 

* * *

It's a Friday evening when HG and Lenore leave for the wedding up state (the wedding starting early enough in the morning they need to get there the night before to have any hope of a decent nights sleep. Who even has a morning wedding anyway) – already dark before they'd even set off. By the time they arrive at the hotel (the one recommended by the “happy couple” and the one that most of the wedding guests were also staying in. There was a discount code available.)

 

It can no longer be classified as “evening” when they arrive – it is most definitely “night”. HG is left wrangling with the bags while Lenore checks them in.

It goes well.

 

Too well she realises as the pair stand in the doorway, looking at the solitary double bed in the middle of the room. There isn't a couch or even a chair that one of them could take instead.

Well.

This'll be fun.

 

HG offered to go down and speak to the front desk about moving them to a different room (where they'll both be able to sleep comfortably), but it's already the wrong side of midnight, and with the number of guests staying at the hotel this weekend – the likelihood of another room being available is not just slim, it's laughable.

 

Besides – the bed is large enough that when they're both lying down (on their backs, not even rolled onto their sides to create as large a gap between them as possible) there's a gap big enough for a third person (a small person. A large child) to lie between them.

 

Anyway – midnight is a distant memory at this point, and they (well, she – he definitely doesn't need as long as she does for wedding appropriate hair and make up) need to get up at seven am.

 

They're asleep before they remember closing their eyes.

 

* * *

They're far closer to each other when Lenore wakes up than when they fell asleep. Like – they're basically in each others arms.

It's warm, and cosy, and safe, and maybe she could pretend she didn't notice and could fall back to sleep.

But she does notice, and instead she pulls away fast enough that she almost falls out of bed backwards, and escapes as quickly as she is able to, into the bathroom.

 

HG wakes to a far less earth-tilting morning – he instead wakes to a bed to himself, and the sound of the shower running through a wall that is much too thin.

 

It takes far longer than he thought it would (he didn't grow up with sisters, and he's never had many friends at all, let alone those that would care this much about what they look like), but he's dressed and ready and playing games on his phone by the time she exits the small bathroom.

 

HG had heard her talk about her dress a lot (Like really – a lot. Lenore likes fashion; this isn't news to anyone – and an opportunity to get dressed up wedding-style is something she really enjoys) but there's a difference between hearing her talk about her dress while they were both dressed in the not entirely fashionable work uniforms that he usually saw her in; and seeing her leave the bathroom, fully dressed up with her make up completed and just finishing up with the last details of her hair.

 

She looks … really good.

 

Lenore has really only ever seen HG in the (terrible, why wouldn't Edgar let her choose the uniforms, like seriously, he has no fashion sense, these things are truly horrifying) uniforms at work. It does absolutely nothing to prepare her for seeing him, all dressed up in his suit (with the tie that she chose for him to complement her outfit. The tie makes it, if she's being honest. She'd say that anyway even if it didn't – the tie is the bit that she chose, but still. The tie makes the outfit), his hair arranged with slightly more care than he would do was he only going to work.

He looks … really good.

 

There's a beat, a moment of silence before Lenore breaks it with a - “Time to go then?”

 

* * *

The official invitation time states 10am – they leave in plenty of time, grab a small breakfast from some drive through place on the way, only get lost once (which was totally not Lenore's fault – yes, she was supposed to be the navigator, but HG _distracted_ her with an adorably silly ramble on something that doesn't matter but she couldn't stop listening to, and she forget to tell him to turn. Still not her fault), and arrive at ten to the hour, almost exactly on the dot.

The room is already filling up quickly, half the seats already taken – they take their own seats too – two seats on the Grooms side; somewhere hidden in the middle where they can see everything, know whats going on, but still disappear into the crowd.

(You don't need to draw any more attention to yourself as the grooms ex-fiancée. Better to melt into the background for this part of the day. Easier said than done for someone such as Lenore, but it can be managed in a pinch)

 

The actual wedding only lasts about half an hour.

His wife is a vision in white as she floats down the aisle – there's tears and laughter (at the same time in places).

It's short and sweet, funny and emotional; a commemoration of two people who are truly in love.

Truly. Guy and his wife are deliriously happy. (His _wife_ , if you could even imagine. That's her, in an alternate timeline – one where nothing went wrong. She can't quite explain how she's feeling – she knows herself knows that she really _really_ doesn't want to marry Guy any more. There's still that sense of “what if” though.)

 

Luckily the cocktail hour immediately follows the ceremony – the happy couple disappear with the photographer, and a large portion of the guests (neither of them exactly came from small families, and everyone wants their five seconds with the pair).

 

Lenore disappears too, as soon as they enter the room (it's Christmas themed, and there's holly and fir trees and decorations, and mistletoe – which they avoid with a wide berth), and HG is left alone – suddenly all too aware that he knows no one in this room (or anywhere in this wedding) except for her. He looks around for her, aiming for casual and landing somewhere in the region of 'meerkat'.

 

“They even have holiday themed drinks,” Lenore announces out of nowhere, reappearing as quickly as she had gone, a drink in her hand.

“There appears to be no holiday theme to these drinks at all.” HG replies, looking at the clear liquid in the glass.

She drinks it anyway. “It's a holiday and I'm drinking. Big Yuletide Mood.”

The first drink disappears quickly, but the second drains away at a more steady pace, and Lenore is definitely more relaxed now than she had been for most of the morning.

 

The uncomfortable portion of the morning over and done with; it was finally time to get to the party – the fully funded by people who are not Lenore and HG party. All parties are great when you don't have to pay for your alcohol.

 

There's eating, and talking, and drinking, and reconnecting with old friends that Lenore hasn't seen in a while, and if she's standing just a bit close to HG – well they're supposed to be madly in love anyway – and she totally didn't just see the _pitying side glance_ from the people who have known her since Before – because she's the ex at the wedding. But she's in love. With HG. Totally. That is … a thing. But it is nice to stand so close to him.

 

The actual members of the wedding return at some point – one minute the hall is half filled with people milling around, suddenly it's almost packed and everyone is congratulating the happy couple. Even Lenore and HG make their way (eventually) to somewhere near them to wish them well. Guys smiles, and thanks them for coming, and means it – sincerely (they really are good friends), and his wife (Lenore's not going to get over the idea of his _wife_ for a while) smiles too, and she's too in love with her husband to care that he was nearly Lenore's husband – but HG leads her away before she can voice that particular brain noise.

 

Toasts come next (and can't leave again quickly enough – like really, who needs you to stand up there for ten minutes and talk about yourself – then add in a short anecdote about the time Guy looked like an idiot in front of his future wife, or when said not-future-anymore-wife made a fool of herself in something or other … they all run together after a while) His mother makes a toast, and she was always kind to Lenore, way back when.

His brother makes a toast too. She never liked his brother – he's a banker and not a great human being and she'll never forgive him for what happened between Annabel and him. Guy's face goes blank for the first time in the day, and it seems he wasn't expecting his brother to make a toast either.

But it ends.

It always does.

 

The first dance follows shortly after; and it's beautiful – the song is perfect, and they are perfect, and they are happy – and if Lenore has to disappear out a side door for some air after a moment, then HG doesn't say anything as he hands her his handkerchief. (It's monogrammed. Who even is he?)

The dance is over when they go back inside, but the _dance_ is just beginning.

Lenore is a great dancer, if she does say so herself, and HG … isn't half bad – and they're having fun spinning around the floor – probably getting in the way of some couples who are _far_ less fun than they are, but they don't care so much – just the right side of tipsy to live their best life, without regretting it the next day.

 

They're in the middle of a particularly lively song when HG just stops, and Lenore stops with him – looking up with a faint blush.

 

It's the mistletoe; the glaringly obvious mistletoe that they had spotted earlier, and had gone out of their way to avoid.

They're supposed to be dating, supposed to be in love, what couple wouldn't want to partake in a bit of festive fun under the mistletoe.

So they kiss.

 

And that's where the fun really begins.

 

 


End file.
